The Truth About Aging: Listening, Respecting, and Showing Up
“You know your whole life you say one day… one day I’ll do this, one day I’ll accomplish that. And the magic of one day is it’s all ahead of you. But for me, one day is now. Anything I want to do I have to do now or else I’ll never do it. That’s the worst part about getting older.”
– Jean Smart, Hacks
Aging has been on my mind lately. Not just in theory, but in real conversations with real people who are living it. I reached out to several individuals in their mid-60s and beyond, curious about what this chapter of life feels like from the inside. What they shared was more than insight it was a roadmap for how we can do better as children, neighbors, caregivers, and community members.
I suppose I defaulted to 65 as a starting point, but aging isn’t a fixed number. It's a lived experience that unfolds differently for everyone. Still, I found it helpful to anchor these reflections with Erik Erikson’s Stage 8 of Psychosocial Development: Ego Integrity vs. Despair. In this final stage, individuals look back on their life either with a sense of peace and fulfillment or with regret and unmet longing. It’s not about perfection; it’s about meaning.
So I asked them five simple questions:
What does independence mean to you at this stage of life, and how can we support it?
What are the hardest or most unexpected parts of aging?
What matters most in how you’re supported or cared for?
How did your experience with your own aging parents shape your view now?
What do you wish your children understood better about growing older?
Here’s what they told me.
The responses were layered, honest, and deeply human.
Independence emerged again and again, not just as a preference but as a lifeline. For some, it was practical: keeping up with annual check-ups, choosing their own groceries, or managing finances without being micromanaged. One person said, “Independence means I still get to decide who I spend time with, how I spend my money, and what matters to me. Just like I always have. I don’t want that taken from me prematurely.”
Another said it wasn’t just about what they could do it was about how others made them feel. “The key to my independence is respect. My family knows when to ask and when to step back. That trust keeps me going.” She explained that her children don’t hover, but they check in. They don’t take over, but they stay aware. That balance, she said, keeps her sense of self alive.
But emotional independence also surfaced something much harder to maintain in isolation. One woman, living alone, reflected, “I’ve built a life of being capable. But when the emotional load gets heavy, no one notices. I’ve trained them so well to see me as strong that now, when I’m tired or sad or unsure, I’m invisible.” It’s a reminder that those who have always held it together may still need someone to ask, “How are you, really?”not because they can’t manage, but because even the strongest hearts need to be seen.
When asked about the hardest parts of aging, they didn’t just talk about health or memory loss. Those are expected, though still painful. What surprised many was the grief that lingers, quietly. The grief of losing a spouse or lifelong friends. The grief of not being part of daily life anymore. “I didn’t expect how much I would still miss my husband, years later,” one woman shared. “I want to belly-ache and laugh with him about how ridiculous aging is but he’s not here. And that’s the part I wasn’t ready for.”
Another said, “It’s not the big moments that sting. It’s the little ones. The Tuesday mornings that used to be filled with chaos, but are now just quiet. The silence gets louder.”
They also talked about the fear of becoming a burden, which haunts even the most vibrant among them. “I want to stay in the lives of the people I love,” one person said. “But I don’t want to be the reason they have to leave early, cancel plans, or live in a constant state of dread waiting for a crisis call.”
What they longed for most in how they are supported? It wasn’t more doctors. It wasn’t more control. It was presence. They want to be included. They want to be remembered. “I don’t want to be a crisis. I want to be a coffee date.”
Reflecting on their experiences with their own aging parents, several expressed regret—not for how much they loved, but for how much they missed. “My mom used to call with computer questions, and I’d answer quickly. Now I realize she didn’t need tech support—she needed to feel connected.” Another shared how the weight of caring for aging parents during her kids' teenage years still lingers: “I wonder if they knew how often I wasn’t fully present for them because I was tending to my own parents. And I pray they don’t feel the same burden with me.”
When asked what they wish their children knew about what it feels like to grow older, the answers were deeply tender and vulnerable.
“It’s scary. Not just for you watching us, but for us living it.”
“It’s hard to ask for help when you’ve spent your life being the helper.”
“Please don’t wait for a holiday to visit. The everyday days are the lonely ones.”
“We don’t want to outstay our welcome, we just want to stay a part of your life.”
And then there were the quiet longings that surfaced almost like a whisper:
“I wish someone would just ask how I’m really doing and mean it.”
“I know it’s uncomfortable to hear us talk about the end, but pretending it’s not coming doesn’t make it go away.”
“I don’t want to feel like an obligation. I want to feel like I still matter.”
In the end, their responses echoed a universal truth: aging is not about disappearing. It’s about wanting to be seen to be recognized not just as someone who once mattered, but as someone who still does.
Three Actionable Ways to Support the Aging People in Your Life:
Respect Their Voice.
Don’t assume. Ask. Let them lead when they can, and listen without rushing to fix. Independence isn't about doing everything alone it’s about being trusted.Reach Out on Ordinary Days.
A quick call, a short visit, or even a shared laugh over coffee can bring warmth to a long day. Don’t wait for the holidays. Show up when it’s unexpected.Remember Their Story.
Acknowledge the things they did for you. Reflect back a memory they gave you. A small “I remember when you…” can affirm a lifetime of love and sacrifice.
Aging isn’t just about counting years it’s about being counted. Let’s make sure they know they still matter, they’re still seen, and they’re still loved.
As we close, I invite you to revisit our recent blog by Erin Cook which explores the often overlooked role of the caregiver, particularly those balancing life as both the adult child of aging parents and the parent of growing children. Her piece offers insight, empathy, and practical support for those caught in the middle.
If you or someone you love is navigating the aging journey whether as a caregiver or as someone growing older we’re here to support you. Reach out to the team at Halos Counseling to learn how we can walk alongside you with compassion, clarity, and care.
About the Author
Sarah Currie, Ph.D., LCMHC, is the founder of Halos Counseling and a licensed clinical mental health therapist with a passion for helping individuals, couples, and families navigate life’s challenges with clarity and compassion. Known for her strengths-based approach and relatable storytelling, Sarah blends professional insight with real-life wisdom to guide others toward emotional wellness and meaningful connection.